Live Love Dance
by Diuchi
Summary: Draco's got a new student at his Dance Academy. Harry is a great dancer but his rebellious attitude is a problem. When Draco's strict methods don't work on the troubled boy, he sets out to teach Harry a lesson. DM/HP. By Diuchi & Little-Hufflepuff.
1. The Academy

**Summary:** Draco's got a new student at his Dance Academy. Harry is a great dancer but his rebellious attitude is a problem. When Draco's strict methods don't work on the troubled boy, he sets out to teach Harry a lesson. DM/HP. By Diuchi & Little-Hufflepuff.

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><p><em><strong>Live. Love. Dance<strong>_

-Chapter ONE: The Academy-

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><p>Draco sighed for the umpteenth time that evening. His hands rested around his half-full cup of tea. He had drunk so much of it he felt it would start coming out of his pores at any moment. He was in his office, a small, dimly lit room at the back of his Dance Academy. He had just spent the last two hours of his day attempting to get his group of dancers to learn the basic steps of a new contemporary number they would be performing.<p>

His students weren't picking up the dance as quickly as he had hoped they would.

Staring into his cooling cup of tea Draco brushed back his blond hair. At twenty-one he had accomplished many things. Owning his own Dance Academy and directing performances were just two undertakings under his belt. When a soft knock came to his office door the man looked up. The students should have all left by now.

"Come in," he called out, returning his attention back to his beverage. If it hadn't been for the pungent smell of smoke Draco would have continued keeping his head bowed. Curiously he lifted his head. Before him stood a young man, in his adolescent years. His hair was unruly and pitch-black and his large, bright green eyes stared at Draco.

Neither of them spoke for an awkward minute, Draco was too astounded by the boy's shear stubbornness; he was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers. Finally the boy cleared his throat, licking his full lips slowly while he thought over his coming words.

"I was told to come see you," he stated, lifting the cigarette to his lips the boy took a long drag before continuing, "I'm Harry Potter, your friend Blaise said I should come see you." He said, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he did so. Draco pursed his lips.

"Did he now," he commented dryly. Blaise was in charge of finding any new dancers who were talented enough to join Draco's Academy. It wasn't often that a new dancer was found, a strict system was in place to rule out any mediocre students. Was Blaise having him on with such a kid? "Why did he send you?" Draco questioned, his grey eyes following the boy's every move as Harry pulled out a chair from the desk and sat down, slumping in his seat.

Dragging on the cigarette once again Harry grinned a lopsided smile, "he said I was good enough to join your academy. Thinks I've got the talent to keep up with your strict curriculum."

"Where'd you meet him?" asked Draco, scowling openly at the cigarette. Harry paid no mind and bounced his knee up and down.

Flicking ash from the burning cigarette he shrugged, "he came to my school; he was doing a presentation on the positive health effect of dancing for my gym class. It was one of the days I decided to show up," Harry gave Draco a wry smirk, "he saw me dance, got all excited and told me to call him if I wanted to learn more about dancing. I did and the rest is history."

Harry crossed his ankles, stopping his inane leg bouncing. Draco rested his chin in his palm, studying the boy before him closely. Harry's body was slim and small, with lithe muscles. The boy was telling the truth about being a dancer, and Draco had no reason to doubt Blaise had told him to visit. He had known about Blaises' little school trip, the man had been irksomely chipper about it. Harry shifted in his seat.

"So?" he breathed out when Draco just balked at him, "what do I have to do to get in?" he asked. Draco sat up straight and took a deep breath in through his nose. He wasn't certain Harry would be a good addition to his class. He needed more dancers that was for sure. But the boy had broken half of the rules in place just in his first meeting with Draco.

He smoked – which none of Draco's dancers were allowed to do. It only made them breath heavy and become sluggish when dancing.

He was cocky – something that would inevitably cause Draco a hard time. And the other dancers wouldn't take kindly to a new student who was overconfident.

Not sure what to say Draco smoothed his fringe back, "what can you do? Genres of dance that you have trained in?" Harry nibbled his lower lip for a moment, his bright eyes studying the trophy case behind Draco.

"I haven't trained in any genres of dance," Draco frowned and made to speak up, Harry cut him off however, "I am self taught. I can dance contemporary and I can do some B-boy tricks. Any anyway, I thought a Dance Academy was a place where people learnt to dance." Draco had to concede Harry was right in that respect.

"It is. However, I'm not sure you're the type of dancer I'm looking for." Harry flicked his cigarette butt onto Draco's shiny desk top, much to the man vexation. When the kid got to his feet Draco noticed the elegance in his movements. Harry was attractive, in the bad-boy-rule-breaker kind of way.

"Fine, I only decided to come just in case I got something to busy myself with. I get bored easily."

Draco bit the inside of his cheek. "Harry," he called just as the boy had reached the door of his office. Green eyes looked questionably at him. "How old are you?" Draco inquired. Harry gave him a puzzled look before he answered.

"Eighteen,"

It was the minimum age for dancers to apply to Draco's Academy. Silently struggling with the want to see Harry in action and the desire not to take on anyone that would cause trouble Draco scowled. Harry had a good body, it was strong but delicate. Draco needed a male dancer who was both those things. Deciding to throw all caution to the wind he looked directly at Harry, who still stood by the door.

"I'll give you a trial run," Harry's brows flicked into his hairline, "you can come to the Academy on Monday," today was currently Friday, "and I will give you a list of dances to perform. I will judge you on these and make a decision on whether I will keep you or not. Understood?"

Harry nodded slowly; "sure," he said nonchalantly, Draco looked pointedly at the small cigarette on his desk then back at Harry.

"You want to pick that up?" he said sternly. Harry smirked at him and flashed a grin.

"No, not really." He replied and left the office quickly. Draco sighed and groaned simultaneously and tipped his head back. What had he gotten himself into?

-**DM**_HP_-

Harry was sitting on a bench in a park not far from the Dance Academy. He did not feel like going home. He knew what would be waiting for him when he returned. He had spent his time out instead of making the dinner he should have been doing and Vernon would sure as hell not be happy about it. When Blaise had come to his school and told him about the Dance Academy, he knew it would be his only hope for a life away from Privet Drive number four. He leaned back with a sigh and looked at the night sky.

What would he do if Malfoy didn't deem him good enough for his academy?

He did not want to think about that. He would do the dances Malfoy gave him and he would do them brilliantly. Harry got up and stretched. It was probably time to head home and face the wrath of Vernon.

He walked through the park and even though he didn't want to think about Monday's test, he could not help but think of how he was going to pass Malfoy's test. He wouldn't have much time for practice nor would it be an easy task to practice when he didn't know what Malfoy would pick. Harry wrapped his leather jacket better around him letting it shield him from the cold wind, as he stood waiting for the traffic light to change.

When the traffic light changed to green Harry crossed the road. He didn't want to hurry back, but the cold was biting now and he did not fancy getting sick either, so he quickened his pace and tried to burry himself deeper in his jacket.

He went down a crowded street and went between the people trying not to run into any of them. Sometimes his shoulder would hit someone and sometimes the person who had been hit would say something or shout insults at him. Not that he cared. It wasn't his fault that they weren't watching where they were going.

When he arrived at Privet Drive he stopped at the street sign. He found his pack of cigarettes in one of his pockets and lit it. He leaned against the street sign and took a long drag of the cigarette before blowing it out in smoke rings. As soon as he had taken the first drag, he could feel the nicotine calm his nerves. Of course it didn't make anything better, but it helped him feel like he could control his emotions.

He took another long drag before looking around the street. He couldn't stand how perfect it was. The hedges didn't have a branch out of order and the grass was greener than any other street. The houses were white and looked newly painted – which they probably were anyway.

"It may all seem so fucking perfect on the outside, but on the inside it's all fucked up," he said to himself, blowing out smoke with every word he said. He pushed away from the street sign and started walking towards Privet Drive number four.

As he stood in front of the door to number four Privet Drive he took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it away. He looked at the kitchen window and saw his aunt moving around in the kitchen. He blew out the smoke before opening the door.

He stepped into the house and hung his jacket on the rack on the wall. He didn't know whether he should go up to his room or if he should let Petunia and Vernon know that he was home. _Not that they would care._ But just as Harry had hung his jacket on the rack he heard a voice thundering through the house.

"Where have you been, boy?" the voice said.

Harry knew that voice well. He had to after eighteen years with it yelling at him. He sighed. What was he going to say to Vernon? Nothing. No matter what he said, it would result in at least a slap across the face. "Nowhere," he murmured when Vernon came out of the living room.

"Nowhere you say? Do not lie to me, boy! You've probably been out seeing that junkie you call a boyfriend," Vernon sneered taking a step towards Harry. His face was getting redder and redder with every step towards Harry. Harry was starting to feel the fear creep into his body. He tried to stay strong every time. He tried not to run, but he couldn't stop the instincts.

Harry could not deny that he was scared of Vernon Dursley.

He took a few steps back until his back hit a wall. He looked to the right and then to the left. If he was quick he could make it up the stairs, but probably not to his room. The door out was out of question. Vernon would get him before he had the door open. What could he do? He could not afford to be injured when he had to practice for Malfoy's test on Monday, but he could not get away either.

Vernon was now so close that Harry could feel his breath on his face. He closed his eyes tightly, when he felt Vernon's hands on his throat. "I won't have a freaky faggot in this house," he hissed while his hands tightened around Harry's throat. Harry was hoping someone would burst through the door and save him, but as any other time Harry was left for himself.

"You'll stop your freaky ways and do your chores!" Vernon yelled. The hands were so tight around Harry's throat that he thought Vernon might choke him. He had trouble breathing and he could see black spots. If Vernon didn't stop soon Harry probably wouldn't breath anymore.

"Vernon!" yelled a feminine voice. Vernon glared at Harry but let go of him and went into the living room again. Harry slid down the wall while gasping for air.

After sitting on the floor for a while Harry could finally breathe normally. He stood up on wobbly legs. Even though he could now breathe his body had not overcome the lack of oxygen. He held out his arm and supported his weight on the wall while walking up to his room.

-**DM**_HP_-

When he had finally managed to crawl up the stairs and had entered his room he went to his mirror. He could already see bruises on his throat and he knew he would have to cover them up in some way when he went to school. If he was lucky they would be gone in time for his dance test. If not he would have to make sure they were thoroughly covered.

Harry lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He thought about what had happened today. This guy, Blaise, had come to his school to talk about the positive health effect of dancing. He had seen Harry dance, and had told him that he should try out for this Dance Academy his friend had. Harry didn't really know if he wanted to but after thinking about it all day he had decided to try. He needed a way out of this hell hole and the worst thing that could happen was that he didn't make it. What he hadn't expected though was Blaise's friend. He'd expected an older man, but had found a man who couldn't possibly be older than twenty-one. The man had been a gorgeous blond Adonis. Harry had never seen a man like Malfoy! But he knew he wouldn't have a chance. First of all he was a boy, and Harry didn't even know if Malfoy was gay. Second of all Harry had a boyfriend! A boyfriend who would be mad and leave – again – if he knew Harry thought of his teacher as 'hot'.

Harry's thoughts drifted to his boyfriend, Victor. Vernon and Petunia hated the fact that he was dating another guy. They were afraid that he would infect their little Duddy-kins, but this only made him want to see Victor even more. Victor was a quite handsome boy. He was tall and thin but still muscular. He had dark brown hair and eyes that were so dark they almost seemed black. The only "ugly" thing about him was his hawk like nose. Harry wasn't sure if he was in love with Victor. He'd never been in love before, but he knew he was attracted to the man. Victor was older than Harry by four years and was of course more experienced than him.

Harry was ripped from his thoughts when he heard someone coming up the stairs. He sat up and looked at his door. It could be Vernon who wanted to make up for his interrupted murder attempt. He kept looking at the door, but the footsteps kept going further down the hall. He let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. He lay down again and it was not long after that sleep overtook him.

When he woke up it was to the sound of someone banging on the door to his room. He sat up and adjusted his glasses, which he had forgotten to take off before falling asleep.

"Get up, boy! My Duddy-kins wants his breakfast," said the person banging on the door. Harry sighed. Aunt Petunia always woke him up this way. He sometimes wondered what Vernon and Petunia did before he was old enough to do everything for them.

He got up and went down to the kitchen. He started to make bacon and eggs with toast for his aunt, uncle and cousin. If he was lucky he would get some of the leftovers if not then he would just have to wait. He just hoped Vernon was in a better mood today so he could avoid getting beaten today. He was so lost in thought that he really didn't see that he was burning the bacon. When he realised what was happening it was all too late and he soon found out that Vernon really wasn't in a good mood today either.

"What are you doing, boy? Burning our food on purpose?" he yelled at Harry.

Harry sighed and turned around. "No, uncle," he murmured and gazed at the floor. He jumped when he felt Vernon grip him by the shoulders. He shoved him into the counter and glared at him.

"Stupid boy! You can't do anything right, can you? I'll teach you to never burn our food again!" he yelled and the dragged Harry away from the kitchen. He dragged him out into the entry and up the stairs and into Harry's room. He closed the door and backed Harry into the door. Harry was trembling and had his eyes closed. He was afraid of what his uncle would do to him. His body was tense even though he tried to relax. He screamed when the first blow hit him in the stomach, and then the next and the next. He clutched his stomach and curled up in a ball on the floor. He could not see it but he could feel Vernon's glare. Harry knew Vernon wouldn't stop anytime soon he would be lucky if he stopped before he passed out.

But Harry wasn't lucky. Vernon kept punching and kicking him until he passed out. And it wouldn't surprise Harry if he had continued after that too, but the only thing he was sure of was the pain before it all turned black.


	2. Second Guessing

_**Live. Love. Dance**_

-Chapter TWO: Second Guessing-

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><p>"Why don't you stand up to him?" Harry flicked his eyes up to the young man opposite him. Victor lifted one eyebrow in question. "It's not like you couldn't out run him, you're fit and he's, well, <em>not<em>." Harry frowned down into his cup of hot chocolate.

It was just after seven in the morning, and Victor had invited Harry out for breakfast. The small coffee shop he took him to was relatively empty, only one other customer dwelled around the counter.

"It's pointless to stand up to him, Vic." Harry said patiently. The couple had been through this same conversation a million times before. Even though Harry knew his boyfriend was trying to help him out and be supportive of his uncle's mistreatment it still riled him when Victor wouldn't drop the subject and leave it alone.

Victor shrugged his shoulders under his jacket; the leather was dark and accentuated the boy's brown eyes. "So you'd rather just lie down and take the beating? For doing nothing?" he asked while taking a bite of his scone. It was almost comical that such a bad-boy would be eating fluffy scones, but Harry held back the uninvited smile and huffed.

"I burnt the food," Harry stated as if this was such a fitting excuse for a beating, "and what would you have me do? He's too strong for me to knock him off and make a run for it, and if I say something he doesn't like I'll end up in bigger trouble and I'd be black and blue for months after." Harry didn't exactly glare at his boyfriend, but he came close, he settled on narrowing his eyes in askance.

Again Victor shrugged. Harry went back to giving his hot chocolate his full attention, sipping at the overly sweet brew in silence. When Victor spoke up again he was leaning over the table, watching Harry intently.

"Let me see the marks," he said, it was more an order than a polite question. Harry shifted in the hard plastic seat before shaking his head. "Come on, Harry, you never let me help, we can go to the chemist down the road and buy some salve or something to help them heal."

Victor always asked to see the bruises his uncle left on his body, and without fail Harry always denied him. It wasn't that he didn't trust Victor. He did. It was purely because he had somewhat down-played the level of violence his uncle asserted. He would tell Victor that it was a few punches here and there, maybe a kick or back-hand. He never spoke of the other stuff. The pushing down the stairs, the burning with matches, the starvation and mental abuse.

He couldn't handle Victor thinking him weaker than he already did.

"It's not that bad, Vic, just drop it." He said quietly, hoping his disinterest would make the young man leave the uncomfortable discussion alone. The bruises on his back and stomach _were_ bad; despite it being only hours since the beating they were black and horrible. Harry's legs were also bruised and his head was tender at the back where his uncle had kicked him. "I went to talk to the Dance Academy owner yesterday." Harry said casually, purposely changing the topic.

"I don't know why you're so interested in dancing," grumbled Victor, stuffing another scone into his mouth and chewing noisily. Harry looked down at the tabletop; it had sticky rings of hot chocolate from the bottom of his mug. "Not trying to give offence or nothing, but it makes you seem like a poof."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Vic, we're dating, and in case it's slipped your notice I'm a boy! Calling me the poof is just hypocritical when you're going out with me." Victor chuckled, coughing when he inhaled crumbs from his food. Sometimes he could be immature despite the four years he had on Harry.

"You're always so feisty," he said when he could speak clearly; Harry took a gulp of his drink, watching Victor over the rim of the mug. "And don't worry," Harry was suddenly aware of a foot nudging up his leg, "I haven't forgotten that you're a boy, in fact it's my favourite part about you." The foot reached the inside of Harry thigh and Victor winked at him.

"Thanks, it's nice to know you appreciate me for my gender and not for my personality or humor." Harry deadpanned, but he smirked when Victor's foot kicked him softly.

"Don't be a dolt, I like those things too, you know."

Harry smiled crookedly, "yeah, that's why you're touching me up with your foot." He commented idly. Victor licked crumbs from his lips and abruptly stood from his seat, holding out a hand for Harry to take.

"C'mere and we'll go for a smoke, I need a nicotine fix." Harry reluctantly took the offered hand, muttering about his half full beverage. Once Victor had a firm grip on him he hauled Harry close, he was slightly taller and looked down at the green-eyed boy with a twisted smirk on his lips. "Can I have a kiss?" he asked rakishly. Harry tossed his head as he chuckled.

"See," he exclaimed, "always thinking with your co–" his crude words were cut short by Victor, who leaned in and pressed a chaste, warm kiss to Harry's lips. It was quick and over all too soon, but Harry supposed that was best, people would stare if they randomly started to make out in the coffee shop. And people could be cruel when it came to two boys together. Harry knew that the hard way.

When Victor pulled back he continued to keep a hold of Harry's middle, "smoke and then…?" he questioned. Harry pursed his lips in thought. There really wasn't much to do on a Saturday morning.

"Want to come check out the Dance Academy with me? It's pretty impressive, it might be open, you know, for the dancers to practice somewhere?" He wasn't certain it would be open, but either way he wanted Victor to see the enormous building.

A flutter of excitement bloomed to life in his tummy and he hoped he would complete the test and get in. And then he could spend more time around Draco Malfoy…_where'd that thought come from?_ He'd only just met the guy; admittedly said guy was extremely attractive, but still! Cursing his teenage hormones Harry looked up at Victor pleadingly.

Victor's shoulders slumped in defeat; it was obvious he wasn't looking forward to doing such a thing. "If we must, come on then." He bodily dragged Harry from the coffee shop, being mindful of his boyfriends bruises while doing so.

-**DM**_HP_-

"Dakota you're doing to lift all wrong! It's bend at the knees and then raise your arms, not raise your arms and stumble around like a loon." Draco snapped, the young girl who was dancing with her dance partner made a noise in her throat, it sounded as if she would cry, but Draco knew better. She was the best female dancer he had, she would persevere.

The other dancers who had come along for the compulsory Saturday practice were jumping and twirling across the large stage, looking very much confused and disorientated. Draco ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on the tall brunette he'd chided. She took on his advice and lifted the shorter girl neatly from the ground.

"Good, keep that up until you get the move perfect, Dakota." She beamed under his praise and nodded seriously, ready to put her best effort in.

The contemporary dance wasn't too difficult, at least Draco thought it wasn't, his dancers all appeared to be struggling to pick up the steps and lifts. Watching them carefully to spot any faults he sat down on a soft, red velvet seat. The Arena was a large room, situated at the rear of the Dance Academy; it held a huge black shiny stage with steps leading up from each side, and rows upon rows of chairs for an audience of up to one thousand to sit.

Crossing his legs at the ankles Draco breathed a sigh, thankful that the early morning session was almost over. As much as he loved his dancers and job, it got a bit much when a simple routine couldn't be learnt quickly. His dancers were off their game, and he was one male short, which put out the other dancers.

One of the leading boys tripped on his partner's foot and scuttled across the slippery stage, Draco frowned, watching as the boy righted himself and fixed his stance, smoothly recovering from the trip. In spite of his vow to watch the dancers studiously he found his mind wandering back to Friday evening when Harry had come to see him. He had some regret about not accepting the kid straight away, it would have solved his problem of a missing male for the dance, but he wouldn't be hasty.

He had built up a business from scratch, a prestigious training school for elite young dancers. If he accepted a rebel who had the potential to ruin what he'd worked hard for he'd never forgive himself. Come Monday he would observe Harry and see if he was talented enough, and well-behaved enough to join. Some small part of him hoped the kid would be good enough to meet his standards.

As if he intense pondering of the boy had somehow drawn Harry to him the back door to the arena opened with a whine of hinges. Draco glanced back over his shoulder, rather expecting to see a few of his dancers, instead his eye rested on the slim figure of Harry.

He didn't move straight away, he let the boy look around the room with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. It was impressive, Draco was proud to admit.

It was a second later that another boy entered – no, not a boy, he was older than Harry, probably nearer to Draco's age. His dark hair was pushed back from his face, showing off a large nose and sculpted jaw line. Curiosity got the better of him when the young man smiled at Harry and nudged their shoulders together.

Standing swiftly Draco walked over to the pair. "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice carried around the large room easily. Harry looked a little apprehensive, twisting the sleeve of his shirt nervously. It was a change from the arrogant, smoking teen Draco had met the day before.

"Uh, are we allowed to be in here?" questioned Harry, when Draco gave a sharp nod he visibly relaxed. "This is Victor," he said after a brief silence between the three. Victor smiled thinly at Draco. "He's my, ah, my boyfriend." Harry went on to say. The hitch in his words made Draco realize Harry was unsure about confiding this to him. Did he look like a homophobe?

"Nice to meet you, Victor, I'm Draco." He replied, ignoring the boyfriend part to make Harry more at ease. It worked, for the boy slumped a little against the wall. "If you want to watch the dancing you may, they'll be finished soon anyhow." He added. Harry's eyes were eagerly fixed on the mass of dancing bodies. Victor looked disinterested, bored almost.

Draco made to turn away when Harry stopped him with his question. "The routine seems a bit choppy, are you short of dancers?" the observation was quick. Draco had to give Harry props for noticing the slight hindrance with the dance. He turned back around.

"I'm short a leading male dancer, it's difficult to work around the biggest part of the dance and keep it smooth."

The click of a lighter caught Draco's attention and he looked to Victor, who was lighting up a long cigarette. Apparently the couple both shared the bad habit. When the man noticed Draco's disbelieving look he tilted the cigarette towards the blond.

"Want a puff?" he offered. If Draco was staring he didn't bother to correct the rude behaviour. He was beginning to suspect why Harry had been so arrogant on the first meeting, if he spent a considerable amount of time around Victor it wasn't a big leap in thinking he'd acquired some bad habits from the older boy.

Harry stepped between them and quickly took the foul smelling cigarette from Victor's hand; he sent Draco a defiant look before taking a long drag. "Draco doesn't like smoking," the boy told Victor who grunted his response. _Ah and there's the bad-boy act!_Draco thought, watching as Harry and Victor shared the cigarette.

The dancers continued the routine behind them. "Have you been practicing for Monday?" Draco questioned to Harry, he wasn't quite sure what to say, and it didn't look like the pair weren't leaving anytime soon.

Harry blew out a cloud of smoke, "not yet." He said offhandedly. Draco folded his arms across his chest at the clipped tone. If Harry noticed his annoyance he didn't pay it any mind.

"Harry said you'd give him some dances to do on Monday, to see if he's good enough?" Draco nodded to Victor.

"If his dancing is good enough, I'll make an effort to overlook some of his _habits_."

"And I'll do my best to overlook some of yours." Harry shot back without missing a beat. Draco almost smiled at the fierce, protective look on Harry's face. His hair was disheveled and his eyes bright. Victor gave a bay of laughter at Harry's aggressive response and promptly wrapped an arm around the younger boy's middle. Harry puffed on the cigarette; the quiet crackle of burning paper accompanied the thick scent.

"Draco," sang Dakota as she skipped down the stage stairs and made a dash over to him, "it's nine already, can we please leave? My arms are killing me." Draco spared the sweaty and tired dancer a soft look. She had worked hard.

"Yes, alright, if you must," he sighed out dramatically, she tittered with laughter as most teenaged girls do, "torture session over." He exclaimed and waved his hand at the rest of the dancers who were assembled on the stage, awaiting their dismissal. Dakota flashed him a wide smile full of white teeth, and then she looked to Victor and Harry, immediately her nose wrinkled up at the smell of smoke.

"Who are you?" she asked abruptly. Draco was used to her blunt way of speaking. Harry apparently was not, for he stiffened his back and replied tersely.

"None of your business,"

Dakota huffed, shooting the boy a frustrated look. "Please don't tell me he is the one who's auditioning on Monday!" pleaded the girl to Draco. Harry opened his mouth to reply, and Draco cringed, ready for a string of defensive words. However, it was Victor who spoke up first.

"Not sure who you are, babe," he said condescendingly to the girl, Draco saw the moment he tightened his grip on Harry's hip, "but you're really pissing me off. Why don't you flounce away and play with your little wannabe-dancer friends, yeah?"

Draco had to admit Dakota handled the young man gracefully. She glared, tossed her long hair over her shoulder and then _flounced_ away. Not about to let a stranger insult his dancers Draco spoke up.

"I think you should leave now, Victor. Harry," the boy looked up at him, his face impassive, "I'll see you on Monday." It was a dismissal and they both knew it.

Once the smell of smoke had vanished and Victor and Harry were well on their way Draco closed the door, smoothing his palms over his dress-shirt. He didn't understand how Harry could be so absolutely frustrating with his arrogant attitude and yet make Draco want to spend more time with him. The slight submissiveness he'd shown upon first arriving also intrigued Draco, and his mind was just about made up on whether or not too add the boy to his team of dancers.

-**DM**_HP-_

Harry and Victor stood outside the academy. Harry was fuming with anger inside. How could Victor do that to him? He had probably ruined his chance of a fair audition on Monday. Harry glanced at Victor, who was leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He looked so careless. It was like he didn't care about the fact that he might just have ruined everything for Harry.

Harry sighed. It was a stupid thought. Victor may be selfish in many ways, but Harry knew that if he really had ruined his audition then he would feel guilty too.

"What ya' thinking about, babe?"

"Nothing interesting, Victor," Harry answered with a smile. He didn't want to say his thoughts out loud in case it would hurt Victor or it would end in some kind of fight. Victor looked at him and shook his head before he pushed away from the wall.

"Let's go before that snob, Malfoy, comes out here," he said and walked away.

Harry opened his mouth and was about to tell Victor that he should not talk about Malfoy like that when he didn't know him, but decided against it. He ran after Victor until he caught up and slowed his pace into a walk.

"Are you really going to go to that audition on Monday, babe?" Victor asked without looking at him.

"Of course I am, Victor! Why shouldn't I? I love to dance and everybody seems to think I've got a talent, so why should I not try it?"

Victor didn't answer and they walked in silence until Harry couldn't stop the question from slipping from his lips: "Why do you ask?"

Victor stopped and looked at Harry and said: "I just can't see why you would do something so ridiculous."

Harry gaped. Ridiculous? How could going to a dance school be ridiculous? He could feel his anger coming back. It was like a boiling feeling slowly creeping from his toes and up.

"I'm just- I'll just head back to the Dursleys' instead, Victor," he said and with that he turned around and started to walk away.

"Harry! Harry, wait!"

Harry sighed and stopped. Victor came up to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. "Look, babe. I'm sorry for whatever I did. Let's go back to my place and have a nice time, okay?"

"Sure, Vic," said Harry and smiled weakly.

-**DM**_HP-_

Draco was once again sitting in his office at the academy. He was looking out of the window with a glass of whiskey lifted halfway to his mouth. He sat there watching Harry and his _boyfriend_. They had been standing just outside the academy for a while and Harry did not look like he was happy with his boyfriend. Draco couldn't keep a smirk from his lips. He didn't know why, but when Harry had introduced Victor as his boyfriend Draco had felt something he could not recognise. He had this urge to punch Victor and lock Harry in a closet.

Draco shook his head. Outside the window the two love birds had started walking, but then Harry stopped. Draco leaned forward in his chair and if the window had been open, he'd probably be hanging out of it.

Harry had his hands balled into fists and his body language told Draco that this Victor had said something to upset the dancer. He waited for the drama to come. Waited for the big fight where Harry would run into the academy to hide from his boyfriend, but it never came. Instead he saw the boy turn around and go.

Draco felt disappointment wash over him. What was wrong with him? He had never cared about his dancers relationships. They could quarrel with their boyfriends and girlfriends as much as they wanted to, as long as it did not affect their dance. So why would he care now?

He saw Victor go after Harry and then they were both out of his sight. He sighed and downed the rest of his whiskey. He turned the glass in his hand before sitting it down and getting up of the chair. He went out of the room and through the empty corridors of the academy.

Out. He needed to go out. He dug his hand into his pocket and fished out his phone. His fingers automatically dialled the number he needed.

"Hello, Blaise. Want a pint?"

He smirked at the answer. "Of course, I'll pick you up in five and we'll go to a bar _with women." _

He hung up the phone and opened the front doors, turned off the light in the corridor and went out. He locked the door and made sure it was locked, before going to his car. When he sat in his car he took a deep breath and exhaled. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, before he started the car and drove off.

-**DM**_HP_-

Harry sat on Victor's bed in his one room flat. It was the only soft spot to sit as the only other place was the floor. He watched as Victor made him hot chocolate and thought about how sweet the man could be sometimes. It was moments like this that made him love Victor.

He would make them hot chocolate and they would sit in the bed and talk for hours, and Harry would forget about his uncle, aunt and cousin. Well.. Until Victor would ruin it all by asking about them. But Harry loved Victor even though he wasn't the perfect boyfriend.

Harry smiled when Victor stood in front of him with his cup of hot chocolate. He took the cup and warmed his fingers on it. The flat was freezing and Harry was sure that Victor, once again, had 'forgotten' to pay for the heat.

He felt the bed dip when Victor sat down beside him. He smiled at him, but the smile soon turned to a frown when he saw that his boyfriend wasn't holding a cup of hot chocolate.

_We always drink hot chocolate together when there's no heat or when he's done something he wants to apologies for.. So why isn't he drinking any?_

Harry quickly busied himself with his hot chocolate. It was too hot to drink yet, so he blew into the cup to make it bearable. He could feel Victor's gaze on him and felt a bit unnerved by it.

When his hot chocolate was cold enough to drink he looked up at Victor and smiled a bit, before drinking the hot chocolate. Victor just sat there watching him and he didn't know what he should do. This was probably not one of their cosy hot chocolate drinking times. If Victor's heated gaze was anything to go by he wanted to shag Harry into the mattress.

Harry downed the last bit of hot chocolate and gave the cup to Victor whit a smile. "I'd like some more if that's okay?"

"Of course, babe, but a bit later, yeah?" Victor said with a sweet smile while holding his arm out to make room for Harry.

Harry smiled and nodded. This was how it should be. He immediately crawled into Victor's arms for a cuddle. Victor smiled down at Harry, who smiled in return. Soon a kiss was planted on Harry's lips and soon a kiss became two and not long after they were making out.

Victor moved both of them so they were lying on the bed. Harry sighed and smiled up at Victor who was running a hand through his hair. Victor bent down to kiss Harry again. Harry lifted his head and met him halfway while putting his arms around Victor's neck. He couldn't help smiling into the kiss as he remembered the first time they had kissed.

Victor was Harry's first boyfriend. His first kiss. His first everything, but most importantly his first love. Harry had obviously been inexperienced and had been so nervous. Victor had been so sweet and kind that he almost felt he owed it to him, but Victor had kept saying that they would not do anything Harry wasn't ready for. He had tried to make subtle hints, but it was as if Victor was blind, so Harry had just gathered all of his courage and kissed him. It was nowhere near perfect because of his inexperience, but for Harry it was the best first kiss he could ever have asked for.

Harry felt Victor's tongue run over his lips asking for entrance. He quickly opened his mouth and began to fight for dominance, which he knew he would give up in the end.

After a while he felt a hand run up his leg and rets on his thigh where it started to draw small circles. Harry frowned but quickly pushed any thought of it away. It wasn't until Victor's lips moved from his mouth and down to a weak spot on his neck and moved the hand on Harry's thigh up to cup his cock that Harry really knew, that what he had thought earlier was right.

Victor wanted to shag him into the mattress.

Harry moved his hands from Victor's neck and started to push at him. He wasn't in the mood and had only agreed to come back to Victor's flat to have a nice time without sex with his boyfriend.

"Vic, stop it," he said and kept pushing at him.

If Victor had heard it he chose to ignore it because he did not stop. Harry pushed harder.

"Stop it, Victor! I am not in the mood for this!"

"But you came back to have a nice time with me, baby," came Victor's voice muffled by Harry's throat.

Harry started to wriggle while he pushed harder at Victor. "Yes, but I didn't think nice time meant sex, Victor!" Harry almost screamed.

Victor stopped and raised his head to look at Harry. "Then what did you think it meant?" he said angrily.

"Well.. We were having a nice time before all of this!"

Victor glared at him and stood up. He began walking towards the door.

"I'm not good enough for you anymore, right Harry? You've set your eyes on that fucking faggot snob Malfoy, haven't you?"

"What are you talking about, Victor? I want you not my fucking dance teacher!" Harry yelled.

"Sure you don't, I don't want you here when I come back. The Dursley's can beat you up for all I care!" and with that Victor went out of the flat and slammed the door behind him.

Harry sat back on the bed with tears rolling down his cheeks. How come it always ended like this when he only wanted to spend some time with Victor that didn't involve sex? Was Vernon really right when he said that he couldn't do anything right?

He lay back on the bed and curled into a ball sobbing. Maybe he should just forget about the audition on Monday too.

He grabbed Victor's home phone that was on the night table and fished a business card out of his bag. On the card was Draco's number for the academy and for his mobile. He looked out of the window. It was dark so Draco would probably not be at the academy anymore.

He dialled the number for Draco's mobile and checked if it was right before pressing call. He waited a minute before he heard Draco's voice.

-**DM**_HP_-

Draco felt his mobile vibrate more than he heard it. He took one look at the screen and saw that it wasn't a number he knew. He thought about just letting it ring, but then again it could be one of his dancers. They all had his number and he had said they could always call him at any time, which he meant.

"Draco Malfoy speaking."

"_Hi.. It's.. It's Harry"_

Draco's eyes widened. He had not been expecting Harry to call him. He noticed Blaise looking at him and shrugged before reaching for his beer.

"Did you want something, Mr. Potter?" he asked politely.

There was a long pause and had it not been for Harrys sniffling and heavy breathing then Draco would have thought he had hung up.

"_Yeah, um.. It's about Monday.._"

Draco frowned Harry sounded like he had been or maybe still was crying. Why was he crying and why did he want to talk about Monday?

"Yes, what about Monday?" he drawled.

"_I.. I can't do it._" Draco heard a sigh before Harry's voice continued, "_I'm sorry, Draco. It's just.. I don't think I'm good enough and you don't want someone like me on your team of dancers because I'm just a-" _the voice trailed off.

Draco took a sip of his beer before sighing and answering, "Mr. Potter.. Harry. You're obviously upset about something. Let's talk about this on Monda-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before he had to hold the phone away from his ear due to Harry almost screaming: "_I said: I'm not coming on Monday!"_

"I heard what you said. Look, let's meet at the academy in half an hour you'll show me some moves and I'll be the judge of how good you are. If I deem you good enough you'll have a full audition on Monday and if not, then you won't have to come on Monday, okay?" he sighed.

"_..Okay."_

And with that the phone was hung up. Blaise looked at him with a confused look. Draco shook his head and finished his beer. "I'm going to the academy. You can stay here or you can come with me, your choice." And with that he was out of his chair and going towards the door.


	3. Pirouettes and Cigarettes

**Author note: **_We are so sorry for not updating for a while. Things are a bit hectic at the moment. I'm (Diuchi) in the middle of exams and will first finish them June 26. When they are done and I've graduated both me and Little Hufflepuff will write new chapters! We promise you!_  
><em>This chapter is written by Little Hufflepuff alone. Let's give her a hand for writing a chapter for you guys!<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Live. Love. Dance<strong>_

-Chapter THREE: Pirouettes and Cigarettes-

* * *

><p>Harry stood outside the academy's large front doors, tapping his foot eagerly on the ground and nervously fiddling with an unlit cigarette held between the fingers of his right hand. His gut was squirming unpleasantly; it felt like he had wriggly worms squiggling in the pit of his stomach. Shoving his free hand into his back pocket Harry fished out his lighter.<p>

"If you have one of those now you'll be puffing and wheezing by the time you show me your stuff." Harry whirled around on his heels, knowing the drawling voice immediately, but startled by Malfoy's sudden appearance. He hadn't heard the man approaching, hadn't even heard his car, which was parked not far off on the curb of the road. As fitting it was a flashy, expensive car.

He regained his composure quickly and shrugged his shoulders, "they help calm me," he stated as if this excused his bad habit. "And right now I'm really on edge." He said quietly more to himself than to Malfoy. The blond raised an arched brow and Harry realized he had caught the last part of his sentence.

"I kind of realized that when you shrieked at me through the phone." Draco's hair was slightly messy, it looked like he had been running his hand through it constantly, and his clothes were rumpled. "Is everything all right, Harry?" he inquired when Harry just stared at him. Harry was taken aback by the genuine concern in Draco's tone.

"Everything's fine. I was just having a bad moment." He said around a thick swallow. The lighter in his hand suddenly felt very heavy and he focused on rolling his thumb across it and watching the flickering flame burst to life from the tip.

Draco took slow steps towards Harry, his eyes solemn; Harry had the vivid mental image of Draco approaching a startled deer, slowly and with caution.

"Potter," he sighed. The use of his surname made Harry look up at the taller man from under his fringe. Draco's lips were drawn flat into a thin line. Harry wasn't certain whether the man was concerned or annoyed – it looked like both emotions were battling for victory. It was almost comical to watch Draco's smooth features furrow with the emotions. Harry didn't feel much like smiling so he settled on looking up in askance.

Draco stopped a foot away from him and Harry could smell the slight tangy scent of alcohol. Had Draco been drinking? If so Harry hoped he hadn't had much, not if he had been driving.

"What's really bothering you?" Draco asked softly. Harry didn't want to talk about what Victor had done or his own doubts and anger at himself. It wasn't the first time that he had stopped Victor when the older boy had wanted sex, in fact the situation was actually quite common between them.

When they had only just began dating Victor would be gentle and understanding when Harry said he wasn't in the mood and just wanted someone to talk with.

However, when Harry continued to stop Victor on numerous occasions the brunet had started to get snappish at Harry. It wasn't so bad at first, Harry could even understand why Victor would be annoyed, he wouldn't like to be stopped abruptly when he was in the mood, but _still!_ Did he really deserve his boyfriends' harsh words tonight?

Some small niggling part of Harry screamed _yes_ loudly and it made him feel nauseated. Perhaps he really did deserve it. He didn't mean to be frigid at times, but there were days when he just needed someone to hold him and talk with him. Sex was good, and at times Harry wanted nothing else but to be with Victor physically, but tonight he had just needed someone to chat to.

Draco cleared his throat and Harry blinked. He'd been staring blankly at the blond. "What's going on? What made you so doubtful?" Harry dropped his head, hanging it so low his chin almost touched his chest. "Harry?"

"Can we just get on with the dancing? What do you want me to do?" Harry changed the subject bluntly and stepped away from Draco. Before the slighter could get another step away Draco reached out and caught Harry's wrist, his hand was strong and palm warm. The lighter in Harry's hand was squeezed into a fist.

Harry froze, not sure how to take the sudden contact between them and somewhat panicked that Draco was about to strike him or shake him roughly. His fear sapped away like water down a drain when Draco tugged gently at his wrist, dragging him a step closer.

"You've been crying," Harry couldn't restrain the blush that bloomed over his cheeks at the accusation; it made his head spin from the rush of blood. He didn't pull away from Draco, he left his wrist in the hold of the man's firm grip and just stared at his feet, hoping Draco would leave him be.

Draco wasn't finished speaking, he absently brushed the pad of his thumb over the tender underside of Harry wrist in an attempt to soothe the boy. "You're eyes are rimmed red," he said as if proving his indictment correct, "why have you been crying?"

Harry swallowed as he chanced a look up at Draco. The man's silver eyes were round with concern; it surprised Harry that someone he had only recently met would be worried about his wellbeing. It was something Harry had never experienced and his resolve began to crack.

"I," his voice broke over the word, clearing his throat he tried again, "I just had a bad moment." It was a deterrent they both knew it and had Draco not been so stubborn he might have accepted Harry's words.

"I'm sure you had a bad moment," Draco said after a brief silence, "however, I also think you've been upset by someone…" Harry gritted his teeth.

"Just what are you getting at?" he snapped. The warm thumb brushed over his pulse point in his wrist. Draco tilted his head to one side, studying the slim dancer.

"I think you know, Harry."

Harry threw his head to one side in a gesture of annoyance. Yes, he did know. "You're blaming him for me being upset?" it was more an angry statement then a question but Draco answered regardless.

"I'm not blaming him, but I do think he's done something. Would I be right?" he asked Harry simply. And damn it! He was right. Harry was put out by just how observant Draco was. "You haven't denied it." Draco added when Harry refused to talk.

Another soft brush of Draco's thumb over his wrist had Harry's throat swelling with a thick, difficult swallow. Wetness prickled behind his eyes, burning them with the threat of tears. He didn't want to think about Victor just now.

"Tell me what's bothering you, what did he do?" Draco questioned calmly. He moved closer so they were now standing toe to toe. Harry could smell and almost taste the alcohol on the man's breath. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion – Draco was being uncharacteristically soft and gentle with Harry and the boy didn't know why.

Dropping his gaze from Draco's steady scrutiny Harry sighed. Twisting the unlit cigarette between the fingers of his free hand Harry decided to get it out, to rip the words from his throat like a child might rip a band-aid from their leg. "Victor said some things that weren't very nice, it made me upset." His words were decidedly rushed and breathy.

Draco lifted his free hand to his lips and trailed his finger tip across his mouth in contemplation. Now that the words had been spoken out loud Harry found them to sound childish and stupid. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to hide from his embarrassment. His chest felt tight, whether from nerves of confiding in Draco or because what Victor had said still stung at his emotions, Harry wasn't certain.

The quiet stretched longer. Harry dropped his head down, letting his messy hair hide his face. He snapped his chin up a moment later when Draco tugged the cigarette from between his fingers. Harry let the blond take it, his grip lax.

Draco frowned somewhat at the cigarette before looking directly at Harry. Harry swallowed a gasp that climbed his throat when Draco lifted his trapped wrist and plucked the lighter from his palm with confident movements. Had it been anyone else Harry probably would have demanded his belongings back, but somehow he knew Draco wasn't intending to keep them.

"Here," Draco said so quietly it could be classed as a whisper. Harry looked inquisitively at Draco's hands; the blond had long fingers and neatly trimmed nails. He was fumbling with the lighter, running his thumb over the little wheel to ignite the flame. "It goes against the rules I have in place, but," he glanced at Harry with a small shrug, "you are tense and I want you to talk with me before you dance."

"Why?" Harry said just as quietly as Draco.

Lifting the cigarette to the flame Draco touched the tip of it and waited for it to light. "Because if you have a problem it will interfere with your dancing and I want you to be able to show me your best."

The cigarette crackled and a thin wisp of smoke curled into the darkening sky. "Oh," Harry breathed.

Draco was only being kind so Harry wouldn't stuff up his addition. He didn't really care about Harry's problems; he just wanted to know if he could get a new, talented dancer. Harry's gut prickled with unease and despite himself he couldn't quite hold back the quiver in his bottom lip.

_Don't cry!_ His mind screamed at him. _If you do you'll seem even more pathetic. Draco won't want to have a cry-baby on his dancing team!_

It was stupid to get upset over something so trivial. He had only known Draco for a short while. In that time they'd never actually shared a true conversation, and Harry knew his smoking and attitude grated on Draco's nerves. A tiny part of Harry had wanted to make a good impression with Draco when they first met, and an even tinier part had wanted the man to like him.

"Open your lips," Draco ordered, his tone was soft nevertheless. Harry complied numbly, feeling out of sorts now that he understood why Draco was being so kind. "Good boy," despite his upset Harry's belly flipped when Draco reached out and placed the lit cigarette between his lips.

He took a long inhale, savoring the almost immediate rush of endorphins. Smoking really did make him feel calmer. After a minute of Harry dragging in long breaths of smoke and blowing them out to one side so Draco didn't cop a face full, Draco spoke up.

"Better?" he asked with a twist of his lips. It wasn't exactly a smirk but neither was it a smile. Harry nodded his head finishing up the now shrunken cigarette. "Want to sit down?" Harry looked to where Draco was pointing and shrugged in compliance.

Once they were settled on a small step just outside the large doors Harry cleared his throat. "You know, I'm feeling much better now."

"Mmm," Draco hummed. Harry knew the blond didn't believe him. "Good. I still want to know what's bothering you." He stated. Harry's shoulders hunched forward in defiance.

"It's nothing, it's stupid."

"You said Victor said some things that weren't nice, what did he say?"

Harry was about to lie and brush off Draco's concern, but when he turned to do so he caught the sight of Draco's worried frown, the little line that had appeared between his eyebrows and the attentive grey eyes. Surely no one could feign concern so well? If Draco simply wanted Harry to get his problems off his chest so he could dance better, why did he look so worried for him. Was Draco an emotional drunk?

No, it couldn't be that. The man wasn't even tipsy, let alone drunk. But maybe the alcohol had softened his demeanor somewhat?

Harry didn't know why Draco's attitude had shifted so abruptly.

"It wasn't that bad; he just got a bit hot-headed and told me to leave. That's all." Technically all those things _had_ happened. Harry just skimmed over the other parts. Draco received his answer with a nod of his head.

"Why was he hot-headed?"

Harry stiffened. He'd hoped Draco could have been satisfied with his brief explanation. Apparently not.

"Erm…"

"Erm isn't an answer." Draco said when Harry floundered for words. Surprised by the mild reprimand Harry drew up his knees and rested his arms across them.

Fiddling with the denim of his jeans Harry shrugged. "He just gets like that sometimes is all. Everyone does at times." He whispered not looking over at the blond even when he could feel a burning stare on the side of his face.

"Did he hurt you?" Draco's voice was low. A tendril of heat curled in Harry's belly at the dangerous tone. A second later the heat disappeared when Harry digested what Draco had meant.

"No!" He said overly loud, Draco raised his brows up his forehead slowly. "I mean, he's never hurt me like that. He's really gentle and nice. He just has his moments when he gets annoyed. It was my fault anyway."

Watching the boy lower his head sullenly Draco shifted on the cold stone step, stretching his legs out in front of him he said; "why is it your fault?" Harry's reply was quick in coming.

"I didn't let him have something."

"Didn't let him have what?" Draco pressed.

"_Something_, it's not important what it was, Draco." Harry's lips were pursed tightly, making them flush a lighter shade of pink. "He got upset, told me to leave and that was it."

Silence from the blond. Harry shifted his knees closer to his body, his shoes scraped across the ground, the sound oddly loud.

"He made you cry," Harry wrapped his arms around his shins and cuddled his legs. "You don't appear to be the type of boy who cries over trivial matters, there's more to the story than you are telling me."

"I hate how observant you are, you know that?" Harry grumbled. Draco gave a shocked little laugh at the boy's unexpected words.

"You're making it too easy to notice things, Harry. You're terrible at hiding your emotions." Draco responded. Harry tilted his head to peer up at the blond, his features were shadowed but Harry could plainly see the smile that played about his lips. It made the boy want to smile also.

"Can I dance for you now?" asked Harry when a comfortable silence blanketed them. Draco stared at him for a long moment.

Sighing he nodded, "I don't think I'm going to get any more information out of you tonight." He stated, it was more directed at himself than to Harry. "What genre do you want to dance in?"

Harry mentally sigh a breath of relief, his muscles relaxed, having been tight all throughout Draco's interrogation. He was glad that the man had decided to drop it and let him dance.

"Contemporary, it's what I know best." Harry said, he stood up quickly, feeling strangely lighter now that he had shared his problems, albeit the bare minimum. Draco got to his feet in one fluid movement. "You dance don't you?" Harry asked impulsively.

Of course Draco danced, he taught it. But Harry also knew a lot of dance teachers were retired and no longer danced. By Draco's elegance Harry discerned he still danced.

"I do. Not as much as I would like too, my job keeps me on my toes, but I do occasionally take time out to dance." He gave Harry the barest of smiles that still managed to look warm and bright, "shall we go in? It's getting a bit chilly out."

Harry's body felt shaky with adrenalin. He knew he was good at dancing, he knew he could beat a lot of other dancers when he had too, but something about standing in front of the gorgeous blond and fighting for a place at his dance academy made Harry's skin crawl with nerves.

"Just relax," Draco said to him, it was as if he had eavesdropped on Harry's thoughts. Taking a steadying breath Harry loosened his shoulders. He didn't want to mess this addition up, he wanted to come back on Monday and wow Draco.

-**DM**_HP_-

Harry's muscles ached pleasantly, the sort of ache that one got after a good work out. Harry's legs were slightly on the shaky side, having worked hard during the impromptu audition. His arms fared better but his abdomen was tight and burning from all the jumps and twists he had performed. The audition had been quick, barely twenty minutes of dancing.

Harry sniffed absently and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was late evening and he was making his way down a dimly lit street. The chill in the air brushed his cheeks until they were pink.

Draco had been subdued and thoughtful after the tryout. Harry wasn't certain how to take it. Had he been good? Fair? _Terrible_? Gods he hoped he wasn't the latter. He'd pushed himself, despite the bruises left from his uncle and the nagging hurt still remaining from Victor's words, Harry had tried his utmost best.

He walked under a tall street light, its orange glow beaming down on him. He didn't want to think about what he would do if he didn't get in. As it was his grades were suffering from his dismal attendance at school, so he had little hopes of ever getting a well-paying, respectable job. His only talent was dancing. It was the one thing he truly wanted to do.

Kicking at a solidary pebble in his path Harry peered up at the apartment building. He knew Victor said to leave, but he desperately wanted to make amends with his boyfriend so the heaviness in his stomach would disappear.

He didn't get any closer to the building before a voice shouted out to him.

"Harry!" Harry spun around on his heels, scanning the empty street for the source of the noise. A moment later Victor emerged from a thicket of trees a bit away, his hair was pushed back from his forehead and he looked flustered. "Hey babe," he breathed out deeply when he was closer. Harry's lips flickered into a hesitant smile.

"Hey," he said softly. "Where've you been?" Victor flashed Harry his own tentative smile, shifting on the balls of his feet as he did so.

"Went for a run," he shrugged, "needed some fresh air and to clear my head." Harry felt his face heat with a guilty flush. It was his fault that Victor needed to get away –_wanted_ to get away from _him_.

Twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers Harry swallowed noisily, Victor looked at him calmly. "Vic," started Harry, he half expected Victor to stop him and tell him he didn't want to hear it, but the older boy merely tipped his head to one side and waited for Harry to continue. "I'm sorry about earlier, I," another swallow, even louder this time, "I shouldn't have stopped you."

Victor rolled his shoulders and shook his head. The movement was small, almost like he didn't want to do it. "Don't worry about it babe," he ruffled his sweaty hair. Harry felt even guiltier due to Victor's flippant tone; it was as if he had expected nothing less of Harry. And that hurt.

"Vic," he tried again, "I really am sorry…"

"And I said don't worry about it." The curt tone cut Harry deep and he took a step back from Victor, blinking his eyes quickly to cover up the rush of tears that wanted to fall. Victor noticed Harry flinch. His dark eyes softened a little and he frowned. "It's fine babe. Really." He said more gentle with his attitude this time.

Harry knew it wasn't fine. Victor clearly wasn't okay about it.

"You know I like being with you, Victor, I really do. And," blushing Harry kicked at the ground with the tip of his shoe, "and the sex is good, you and I both know that –"

"Then why don't you ever want it?"

"I do!" Harry exclaimed desperately. His head snapped up to stare at his boyfriend. "I do," he said more quietly, "it's just that I wanted to have a talk." Yeah. When he said it out loud for the world to hear it did sound lame. Like an excuse. He couldn't blame Victor for being hurt by his denial.

Victor crossed his arms across his chest, the scarce dark hairs on his forearms noticeable in the orange glow of the street lights. "We could have talked, Harry. It's not impossible to talk after sex you know?"

His words were condescending. Harry guessed he deserved them. He nodded stiffly. Victor was right; they could have shagged _and_ talked.

"I'm sorry," Harry's voice was barely audible. The words virtually mouthed not spoken. Victor shrugged awkwardly with his arms crossed.

"Doesn't matter." He said shortly. "You'll do it again."

That _stung_. Did Victor really think him so reserved?

"It does matter," Harry said. His lips and tongue felt dry and more than anything he wished Victor would hold him and give him sweet, soft kisses to make the lump in his stomach go away. But judging by Victor's defensive stance that wouldn't be happening.

"Look, I know that I've done it before," Victor grunted at that. Harry looked to the ground but continued to speak. "Sometimes I just like to talk with you. It's nice to know we can just sit and talk about everything and anything."

A long sigh was the only response he got. Then Victor spoke; "where have you been tonight?" Harry shrugged one shoulder up. "With the blond?" Victor said sharply.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek at the sharp edge to Victor's voice. "You mean Draco?" he questioned as casually as he could. He was treading on slippery ground. He knew Victor didn't like Draco. Would he be mad? He already was Harry supposed.

"Yes," Victor's teeth were clenched. He took one look at the wide-eyed expression Harry was wearing and hissed a profanity into the night. "Fucking hell, why the fuck would you go see him for? Going to cry on his shoulder about your big, mean boyfriend?"

Harry had expected the words to upset him. He'd been on the verge of tears far too much tonight. Instead the words angered him. He wasn't sure if he was feeling protective over Draco or annoyed that Victor was having a go at him. It didn't really matter where the anger stemmed from, he could use it to hide his hurt.

"Would you stop cursing?" Harry said loudly, Victor opened his mouth to reply. Harry glared and waved his hand in a silencing gesture. "Just shut up for a moment and listen to me. You told me to get out; you said you didn't bloody care if the Dursley's hurt me! So I left and went to see Draco for an audition."

"For an audition…?"

"That's what I said wasn't it?" Harry narrowed his eyes, it wasn't a full on glare, but it had to be menacing.

Victor squeezed his lips tightly together. "Why did you have an audition in the evening? He's probably some sicko who wants to get in your pants! Luring you out by yourself."

That done it. Harry saw red.

"You're such a hypocrite, Victor!" The taller boy furrowed his brows at Harry's expletive. "Draco is your age! I was having doubts. He gave me the option to try out to see if I should come back Monday for a full audition. There was nothing _sick_ about it, he watched me dance and then said he'd see me Monday. End of story. Stop having a go at him just because you're jealous of him. What is it exactly that you don't like about him?" Harry finished with a huff and swore under his breath.

Victor was silent for a long minute, standing with his arms hanging loosely by his sides and watching Harry carefully as if he expected his little lover to blow up into a thousand shattered pieces.

"I don't like the way he looks at you." He said finally, under his breath, quietly. Harry balked in surprise.

_What?_

"What?"

Victor licked his lips quickly, wetting them before he spoke. "He looks at you like…like he wants you."

"Maybe he does want me; he said he needed a leading male dancer –"

"No," Victor cut Harry off, "not in that way. He _wants_ you. I don't like it. I don't want any other guy looking at you like that. It sets my teeth on edge."

Harry nibbled on his bottom lip. _Draco Malfoy looking at him like he wanted him! Harry. _The thought sent little butterflies to flutter in his chest. His blood warmed pleasantly and he was alarmed to find that some part of him wanted Draco to want him.

"I don't think he wants me, Victor." And it was the truth. He knew Victor could get jealous easy. He had done in the past. And if Harry was honest he couldn't see a successful, handsome man like Draco Malfoy ever wanting a ruffian like himself. "He's very career focused and besides he didn't seem very impressed with my dancing, he probably won't even let me join."

It made Harry glum when Victor perked up at this. "Really?" The older boy asked. Harry nodded solemnly and Victor schooled his features into a mask of empathy.

"I'm sure you did great, baby." Harry's heart jumped in his chest at the endearment. It was a sure sign Victor was coming out of his bad tempered mood. "If he doesn't let you join he's a foolish git."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sincerity in Victor's brown eyes. He liked it when Victor was supportive and kind. "I hope I do get in though." Harry admitted softly.

"I know. Just promise me something…?" Harry looked up at Victor from under his fringe, he quirked an eyebrow in question. "If you get in and he tries anything let me smash his nose in."

A coil of emotion that screamed _no_ burnt through Harry's stomach all the while battling with the warm feeling of having Victor be protective over him. He didn't want anything to happen to Draco, not that he really understood why that was. He settled on giving a thin smile.

"He won't try anything, Vic. He probably already has a partner…I don't even know if he's gay." And that was true. For all Harry was aware of Draco could have some cute, petite girlfriend who giggled at his jokes and ran her fingers through his blond hair after he had a long day at work.

Victor held out one hand towards Harry. It was a silent invitation for the boy to come cuddle up in his arms. Harry grinned a little giddily, happy to have his boyfriend serene. He took the offered hand and let the larger boy drag him into a tight cuddle.

"The way Malfoy was looking at you earlier made it obvious that he's inclined towards the male gender. He was literally drooling over you!" Harry laughed, knowing that Victor was over exaggerating. He'd not even noticed Draco paying him any special attention.

"You're just seeing things, Vic, he isn't interested…" _even if I wish he was_.

Harry wrapped his arms around Victor's middle, hugging him close and ignoring the musky scent of sweat that clung to Victor's hair and clothes.

"Mmm," Victor said noncommittally. "Let's go inside and you can tell me about the audition, yeah?"

Relieved and content Harry nodded against the soft fabric of Victor's T-shirt and allowed himself to be pulled over to the apartment building, all the while cuddled safely in strong arms.


End file.
